The World's A Wicked Game
by CanTheLaughter
Summary: A wicked game indeed. SatoshiXDaisuke


So yes. Hello! This is my first fan fic EVER. Yes. You heard right! It's nothing interesting or very mind consuming, just one shot bit of naughty fun. (:

It's a bit iffy here and there [the ending suuucks!] but a constructive critique is extremely welcome and very much appreciated. Be as harsh as you like, my people.

I do not own DNAngel in the slightest, and do not claim to.

* * *

Desire – Ryan Adams

_Two hearts fading, like a flower.  
And all this waiting, for the power.  
For some answer, to this fire.  
Sinking slowly. The water's higher.  
Desire_

_With no secrets. No obsession.  
This time I'm speeding with no direction.  
Without a reason. What is this fire?  
Burning slowly. My one and only.  
Desire_

_You know me. You don't mind waiting.  
You just can't show me, but God I'm praying,  
That you'll find me, and that you'll see me,  
That you run and never tire.  
Desire._

The bell finally rung, the delicious sound signifying the end of another decisively dull lesson and, better yet, the end of what seemed to be a particularly long day of torturously tedious school. As the last reverberating peal faded Daisuke Niwa was the only one remaining in the classroom. He was always slow to pack up, he was clumsy and disorganized at the best of times, it had taken him a while to awaken from his boredom induced stupor and realise that the school day had ended. He felt strange with Dark no longer nestled sleepily in the back of his mind, and to no surprise did not stir even as Daisuke probed half heartedly through his thoughts. He missed him in a way. It was nice to have a bit of freedom in his mind, to allow his thoughts run free and pure and unedited without the constant threat of someone peering over his shoulder.

Sighing heavily Daisuke begun stuffing his books with little patience into his bag. He slumped the book filled sack across his shoulders and headed out the classroom, mind gently wandering as he meandered through the corridors. It was only when he reached his desired exit that he flame haired boy realised he needed to pick something up from the art department. Sighing heavily with a worn frustration, Daisuke headed in the opposite direction to the other side of the school.

The object that had caused him to change his route, the object he was in dire need to collect, was a painting. It was his dear mother's birthday the following day and feeling he should present her with something special had produced a picture for her. He had painted the piece at school, knowing Emiko's nosiness and unnerving knack of sniffing out things not meant for hew viewing would soon lead her to the present intended as a surprise. Daisuke smiled fondly at this though. She meant well, and who could blame her feeling a little protective when her only son shouldered such a heavy and so dangerous responsibility? No, Daisuke had to cut her a little slack. She had done so much for him throughout the whole ordeal. Though at times her overly defensive, cotton wool smothered nature made him feel restless and slightly claustrophobic, he really did not know what he would so without her. Her stubborn streak did have a habit of causing him more grief than he felt he deserved at times. Her hatred of the Hikari family made it all the more difficult for the young Niwa to attempt a friendship with the cold Hiwatari. He could understand her loathing but he still felt the boy needed a chance. He wasn't like the others, of this Daisuke was sure. Even if no one else saw it.

Daisuke sighed softly, the pondering of his thoughts abruptly halted at the sight of the art department door. After swiftly entering the code, he made his way into the dimly lit room, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to his gloomy surroundings. He stepped forward, nostrils greeted with a gently familiar wave of paints and paper –the fruit of the art. He made his way to the drying rack that lay alongside the wall where his painting lay. Picking up the paper heavy with a thick layer of paint, his eyes roamed over the piece. He couldn't help but feel a faint flush of pride at his work. Upon the paper lay the face of his mother – her soft brown eyes were the first thing that leapt from the page. The soft honeyed orbs glowed faintly with wisdom, stubborn determination and pride. They emitted such a tangible warmth that Daisuke Niwa was sure he could feel it seeping into him to like a liquid comfort right there and then. The painted was angled to show only part of the woman's face, her eyes were not looking directly at the camera and her mouth was slightly agape with what appeared to be laughter. Her skin shone softly, rich and pure and shrewd, and her mouth showed an elegant sense of contentment. Daisuke let his fingers run gently across his mother's face as his thoughts ambled onwards.

"Not bad, Niwa."

The voice came from directly behind him and with such suddenness that Daisuke let out an audible squeak and froze. He felt a warm rush of air flutter past his cheek and he knew instantly who it was. Daisuke stood silently for a moment, waiting for the thick pounding in his ears to settle with turning slowly. Daisuke stared up at the boy, taking a sharp gasp of breath at their close proximity. Before Daisuke even had time to register Satoshi's facial expression the older boy had taken a step back. The young Niwa's face brightened and he gave an uncertain smile.

"Hiwatari-kun!" Daisuke's voice wavered slightly, though why this was Daisuke did not know. He cleared his throat "Thank you for your compliments. What are you doing here?"

Satoshi looked at the boy, his pale face showing no emotion. He stared at the younger boy, long and hard, before answering. "I come here to contemplate."

"Contemplate what Hiwatari-kun?" Daisuke asked with genuine curiosity. He could not help it, there was something about the blue haired boy that fascinated him, enticed him. The Niwa looked at the boy with a faint sense of unease. He was not sure why – he often felt a strange sort of energy fuelled edginess around the other. Though it was not an unpleasant feeling, it made Daisuke nervous. It was almost like his every nerve was awake, ready and waiting. Ready and waiting for what? This he could not answer, and nor did he want to. Some things were better left un-thought of.

"What are you doing Niwa?" Satoshi's face was suddenly very cold, very closed.

"I…I came down to get my painting..." Daisuke frowned with confusion, eyes scanning the boys face. The light was reflecting off his glasses, hiding his eyes under a sheen of unnatural light. His facial features were well defined, sharp and slightly angular, though not in a negative form. His eyes, when they could be seen beneath those curious glasses, were a deep and dangerous blue. They seemed to swallow their surroundings, forcefully impassive and detached. He stood several inches taller than the Niwa, which the young boy regretted – he did not like being so short. He was lean in stature, a little too lean for Daisuke's liking. He knew Hiwatari did not eat properly. The boy seemed to have an unmoveable shield of distance around him. Isolated and alone in a chilly guard. When Daisuke tried to get close, to break that icy and so emotionless barrier, he was knocked straight back. Bruised and disheartened that he could not seem to make the elder understand he simply wanted to befriend him. Daisuke gave a weak, internal shrug at this and was awoken from his deep thoughts by the other boy.

"No. What are you _doing_?" Satoshi's face was perfectly bare, as was his voice, devoid of all emotion, distant and seemingly uncaring. There was a weary edge to his words, though. Daisuke did not understand.

"I do not understand…" The boy murmured, running a troubled hand through the shock of crimson hair that exploded from his skull.

"Why do you do this to me? Speak to me? Force yourself upon me?" The cold, detached tone of his voice did not change bar that weary edge that was etched into the features of his face. Why was he so hard and so cold?

"Because you are my friend Hiwatari-kun." Daisuke was quick to reply, and this answer seemed blaringly obvious to him. What else could he do, what else could he say? A sweetly uncertain smile tarnished his lips as he stared, cheeks flushing slightly at the intensity of Satoshi's glare.

* * *

Satoshi tilted his head at the boy's answer, his teeth grinding down with such violent vigour that he was sure a trip to the dentist would follow this conversation that he so wished had never begun.

Satoshi thrashed restlessly in that tiny postage stamp of his mind that he had had to strain so hard to protect from Him for so long. The freedom unnerved him, he almost resented it after so long with that choking leash around his throats and thoughts. Why did he _do this_? Tease him, taunt him, entice him? So naïve, so innocent, so infuriatingly irritatingly addictive? The more distance Satoshi tried to force between them, the closer the other boy clung, his warm amber eyed smile scratching baldly at the insides of his mind, squirming dangerously close to the edge of Him. Satoshi had made his feelings, or rather the feelings he wanted to put across, perfectly clear. Coldly, bitterly, cruelly. And still the boy comforted him, his caring so cruel. It was not for Satoshi's benefit he did this, oh no. He had been fine, just fine, until he had come along. Clumsy, eager and stubborn, so desperate to please, to fix things that were not his things to fix. Things that did not need fixed. That did not wanted fixed. That could not be fixed.

Did he not understand what he was _doing_ to him? Did he not understand that every time he offered a word of assurance, a smile of understanding, a frown of concern that the ragged, icy hole in his chest burned with such a blistering agony that his insides twisted in searing torment and the beast wrenched painfully in the back of his mind. His nerves screamed fire and his mind battled to conceal a feeling he was so desperately trying to deny, from the beast preying in the depths of his skull, from the world spinning drunkenly around him, and from the biggest denial of all – himself.

What was it?

The word burned, gaping in his mind, singing through his veins in anger and resentment.

Desire.

As this echoed through his mind he felt an unexpected air of disappointment when nothing stirred within the back of his head.

"I am not your friend Niwa." Satoshi said tightly, his face still blank despite the chaos that spun through his body, contorting muscles and taunting neurons.

'But Hiwatari-kun! You are. Why do you not know this? You are my friend and you must know it!" Daisuke cried earnestly, worry creasing the corners of his warm eyes, tormenting Satoshi all the more. "Why do you push so much? I just want to help Hiwatari."

"Did you ever stop to think, Niwa, that maybe I did not want your help? That I wanted to be alone? That I did want you anywhere near me?" Satoshi's perfectly painted blandness was beginning to slip, the anger that burning beneath the pale skin beginning to seep through, sparking his eyes in an electricity of pent up frustration. "I don't want you Niwa." He was holding back a dangerous torrent of emotion and of words he knew he would regret if he allowed them to escape. He had already said too much, shown too much.

"But Hiwatari-kun--" Daisuke begun, determined to convince the elder otherwise. Why did he try so hard? This thought begun at the front of Satoshi's mind, but was swept angrily away. His breath tore from him, he felt dizzy and wrong and on top of the world.

"I do not want you." Satoshi said again, quieter, calmer. His breath was heavy and he paused for a moment. With a low hiss he stepped towards the boy, his mind bare and aching. Anger still snapped at his heals, skipping past sense and reason and logic. He strode purposefully towards the younger boy, who took a hesitant step backwards. Satoshi approached him, eyes narrowed as the Niwa found his back pressed against the wall behind him. His lips were slightly parted, eyes frantically searching Satoshi's face, questioning and answering all at once. The elder male stood just in front of his younger, head slightly ducked as his breath whispered coolly across Daisuke's cheek. He raised both hands, placing each on the wall either side of Daisuke's head, leaning in so their mingled breaths twisted between them. There was a moment's hesitation before Satoshi swept his glasses aside in a movement filled with a rampant sense of reckless freedom and tilted his face inwards, capturing Daisuke's lips with his own. He felt the boy's mouth tip open, a gasp of shock rasping out as Satoshi stole his lips, mouth moving against his mouth. A wave of searing heat burned with an uncontrollable vivacity as he pressed himself against the boy, hips to hips, lips to lips. His breath was hot and ragged as his tongue crept between the boys shy lips, probing into his mouth with tender curiosity, full and thick and burning as the blue haired figure leaned heavily against the younger.

* * *

Daisuke had the faintest, rather unnerving, feeling that he knew what was about to happen. When Satoshi strode towards him, strands of blue hair hanging almost eerily over his eyes, he knew. Oh how he knew. But the shock that hit him, a brick in the face, he was not prepared for. Nor was he prepared for his instinct to bolt to abandon him at that moment when the stranger's lips met his own. How unprepared he was for such fire and such heat to sear from the boy in anger and frustration and something else Daisuke didn't dare identify. His breath rasped with surprise as a gentle tongue slipped smoothly between his parted lips, pressing against his own. He felt Satoshi's body flatten against his, pressing into him. Cool and slender hands faded from the wall, reaching to cup around Daisuke's face, tilting his head so the kiss – Because that was what it was, wasn't it? – deepened and ripped through him like wildfire, panic screaming from very orifice of his mind. Daisuke's breath grated slightly as he found his lips greeting the kiss with more acceptance and anticipation than Daisuke cared to acknowledge. He breathed heavily, alarmed at the how his body seemed to be stretching in two entirely different directions. To want or not to want?

Daisuke's hands moved up to grip the young man's shirt, fingers knotting into the fabric as if to push him away or perhaps to anchor him there? He shuddered a breath as Satoshi's hands slid from his face and ran down his body. The elegant fingers teased down his body, trickling across his ribs and stomach, tracing his hip bone before they slipped under the edge of his shirt. Daisuke gasped as he felt hot fingers on hot skin, gripping pulsing muscles as the blood pounded through his ears. The slight touches danced across his skin, taunting every nerve into an electric dance of pleading. It was too hot. Deliciously hot. The tantalizing circles that ran across the taunt skin of his back made his head spin as he drunkenly tried to resist the teasings of pleasure that unfurled from tightly coiled spiral in the pit of his stomach.

"Stop it." Daisuke managed to grind out, breathing heavily between the kisses that littered his lips. Satoshi's mouth stilled, though his fingers did not. He ground his hips lightly against the younger's own, mouth searching downwards to move softly against his collarbone.

"But you don't want me to, do you Niwa?" The heady words fluttered across his skin as Satoshi spoke softly into that hollow beneath Daisuke's throat. Daisuke's eyes shut, breath laboured as he struggled to control his thoughts.

"Hiwatari." Daisuke groaned as Satoshi moved against him, body's pressed in moving in gentle, unnoticed synchronisation . His lips tickled down his throat, stirring against his skin. "Why?"

Satoshi laughed softly, his face creasing in such a carefree, lightened way that Daisuke had a sudden almost irrepressible urge to hold it there and keep it forever. Satoshi did not answer the question as his lips moved back up to Daisuke's face, eyes capturing the other's as he looked hard at the boy, moving his lips once again upon the other's.

* * *

Satoshi noticed the boy did not show any resistance this time as Satoshi moved against him, devouring him greedily with his lips, his eyes, his hands. He fingers ran up to knot into the deliciously soft flamed hair, feeling such a curious urge to bind the boy to him forever. He felt Daisuke tighten his grip, his lips moving in time with his own and it was at this moment that Satoshi parted their mouths, leaning his forehead softly against the others. They both breathed heavily and Daisuke groaned, long and low and lust filled, as Satoshi drew away.

"No." Niwa moaned quietly, tilting his chin up as cool air swept across his facial features. The blue haired boy reached down to receive his glasses that had skittered across the floor. Wiping them carefully on the now rumpled hem of his shirt, he placed them carefully upon his face. He turned to smile quietly at the boy crumpled figure of the boy slumped against the wall, chest rising and falling rapidly as his warm eyes, shocked and panic stricken as they gazed at the boy that had thrust himself upon him.

"Not bad, Niwa." Was all Satoshi said, head slightly inclined as he stood for a moment before turning on his heal and walking calmly from the room, only the clik of the door disturbing the silence he left Daisuke in.

* * *

Daisuke watched the figure retreat and sunk down to the floor, nestling his head between his knees as he regained his breath. "No, no, no, no, no." He murmured quietly, tone on the edge of a sob. He closed his eyes, trying to burn the image from his mind. What was that? There it was burning in his mind, creeping into every corner of his body, screaming from the thoughts he begged to deny. "What have I done?" This question faded on his lips though as the realisation dawned on him. The denial ached throughout him as he desperately searched for a reason for his actions. They trampled through his mind, senseless, meaningless and useless. The carefree smile that had twisted Satoshi's face was what filled his mind now. It was wrong, too wrong to even try to comprehend. Then why did he…?

"Oh what have I done."


End file.
